In this article, I would like to review some important ecclesiastical events of the last few days—the Vatican Consistory of Cardinals and the SSPX Consecrations—and try to read them in perspective. A necessary premise: the author is not a lay member of the Society of Saint Pius X and therefore, strictly speaking, is not directly involved in the controversy—if we may call it that—between this priestly Society and the Holy See. Nevertheless, as I have also written elsewhere, this rupture, which appears increasingly serious, concerns not only the entire world of Catholic Tradition, but the entire Church, and even beyond the mere Church.
How the June 2026 Consistory Took Place
Let us begin with the facts. From June 26 to 27, the second Consistory of Pope Leo XIV took place in the Vatican. It was presented as “extraordinary,” although, as Leo himself has repeatedly announced, it will be convened regularly—at least annually—to “listen and discuss” important issues with the cardinals.
Unlike the January 2026 Consistory, when the cardinals were able to choose two of the four proposed topics (let us briefly recall them: mission and evangelization in light of Evangelii Gaudium; the relationship between the Holy See and the local Churches in light of Praedicate Evangelium; synodality; and liturgy), this time the topics were selected directly by the Secretariat of the Synod—not by the Pope. This is factually the case, even though it may be officially denied.
The topics that had been set aside in January were liturgy and the relationship between the Holy See and the local Churches. Let us also recall that Cardinal Roche, Prefect of the Dicastery for Divine Worship, nevertheless circulated among his brother cardinals an apologetic report on Traditionis Custodes, thereby influencing the point of view of cardinals who may not be “inside the issue” and who, according to what I have been told by several highly reliable sources, are by no means few in number.
The episcopal consecrations of July 1, 2026 intensified the tension—but they did not create the crisis.
Many therefore expected a Consistory devoted to the two issues that had previously been set aside. Instead, the Secretariat imposed entirely different themes upon the cardinals from above, also because of the publication of Pope Leo’s first controversial encyclical, Magnifica Humanitas (the reader is referred to this analysis on LifeSiteNews and this analysis on The Remnant Newspaper).
Also noteworthy is the fact that, before the beginning of the Consistory, the agenda was changed at least once. In an initial letter to the cardinals, Cardinal Re had announced the topic of the just war theory among the themes to be debated, in order to determine whether it should be considered “outdated” or not; later, however, this topic disappeared.
Furthermore, it was striking that no fewer than three cardinals belonging to the minority (indeed, residual) conservative current of the College were unable to attend for health reasons: the Chinese Joseph Zen, the Hungarian Péter Erdő, and the Dutch Willem Eijk. As we shall see, however, the remaining so-called “conservative” cardinals certainly did not distinguish themselves. Quite the contrary.
Turning to the Consistory itself, the first thing that stood out was its organization, obviously in perfect Bergoglio style. The cardinals were divided into two major categories. On the one hand, the cardinal electors who serve or have served as diocesan ordinaries, themselves divided into nine groups. On the other hand, the remaining cardinals with curial assignments or who were non-electors, divided into eleven groups. Each group was assigned a moderator-president and a secretary who collected the contributions that were subsequently incorporated into a final report.
The Consistory consisted of four phases, each with its respective theme: analysis of the contemporary world (“In what kind of world are we called to proclaim the Gospel?”); analysis of internal and external tensions affecting the Church (“The Culture of Power and the Civilization of Love”); analysis of requests and proposals coming from below (“Building the Good: The Worksites of Our Time”); and finally analysis of the current state of the Church’s process of synodalization (“The Path of Implementing the Synod”).
The cardinals who introduced each session were, in order, the Polish Grzegorz Ryś, Archbishop of Kraków; the Argentine Víctor Manuel Fernández, Prefect of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith; the South African Stephen Brislin, Archbishop of Johannesburg; and finally the Maltese Mario Grech, Secretary General of the Synod. As is evident, these names are all leading figures of the most Bergoglian section of the College (not to be confused with the entire neo-modernist section—today the majority—which, as we have seen in other analyses, contains internal currents that differ above all in their methods).
Each session was in turn divided into three phases. In the first phase, each cardinal was granted up to three minutes to address the questions assigned for discussion; a second round allowed interventions of no more than two minutes, during which participants were required to highlight the significant points that had emerged from the previous exchanges without introducing new proposals; then came the final phase, devoted to drafting a report. Only the reports of the cardinal electors and diocesan ordinaries were presented before the assembly, with a maximum limit of three minutes for each presentation.
The real conflict is not liturgical. It is doctrinal.
What Was the Purpose of the Consistory?
In light of all this, it is legitimate to ask about the usefulness and purpose of this Consistory. Looking at the themes of the four sessions, at least the purpose appears obvious: today the Church is concerned with understanding the world, not evangelizing it. The ultimate goal is once again unity at any cost, regardless of doctrine, which may be interpreted, adapted, manipulated, questioned, and repudiated without anyone thereby being considered either a heretic or a schismatic.
To this end, the Church is now called to redefine her mission in the contemporary world through an institutional reorientation. The four sessions reflect four stages of a progressive process: first, diagnosing the global context in order to understand today’s dominant cultural and anthropological terrain; second, identifying precisely the internal and external dynamics that hinder the revolutionary process within the Church; third, welcoming and promoting the experiences and requests of the various communities by presenting them as “worksites of the Good”; and finally, consolidating synodality as a permanent method of governance.
According to the finest democratic tradition dating back to the French Jacobin Revolution: a revolutionary elite establishes in advance the agenda to be pursued; everyone is given the opportunity to express an opinion or to vote in order to create the impression that those who speak and those who vote are acting (thus confusing two levels—speech and action—which are clearly distinct even from a moral point of view); the debate is then guided in such a way that the final result presents as having been decided by majority what the elite had established from the outset.
The Church must no longer be the teacher of the world, but its humble disciple. No longer a strong mother who nourishes and corrects, but a weak mother who always justifies and is incapable of saying “no” to her children when it is right to do so.
Pope Leo XIV said in his concluding address: “I believe that, little by little, we are rediscovering the most authentic meaning of the Consistory: the gathering of the College of Cardinals around the Successor of Peter so that, through mutual listening and common discernment, the Holy Spirit may help the Pope guide the Church. Not a Parliament, not a Congress in which opinions or interests prevail, but an experience of communion at the service of the mission.” [My translation from Italian]
One is almost tempted to comment: excusatio non petita, accusatio manifesta.
He then continued: “Throughout the Church we wish to promote spaces in which the People of God can listen to one another, pray, discern, and walk together. This is the soul of the process of implementing the Synod.”
If this does not constitute a state of necessity, what possibly could?
Cardinal Müller’s Intervention: Are These the Conservative Cardinals?
As was calmly admitted by an (anonymous) cardinal before the concistory proceedings began, the subject of liturgy was also set aside because of the other major event that shook the Church, namely the episcopal consecrations without pontifical mandate celebrated by the SSPX on July 1st.
Before the Consistory, the Society had delivered to all the cardinals a Professio Fidei Catholicae consisting of 154 points. During the Consistory, as far as is known at least, the matter was not addressed directly except by Cardinal Müller, who is presented by the media as one of the most important cardinals of the conservative faction within the College. His three-minute speech began with the following sentence:
“From Irenaeus of Lyons to the First Vatican Council, the primacy of the Pope was not conceived as the prerogative of an isolated individual, but as the primacy of the Church of Rome, whose Bishop is at the same time the visible head of the entire Catholic Church.”
These words are striking, for they appear at least ambiguous in themselves. Catholic doctrine teaches that the primacy—that is, the full, ordinary, and immediate power of government over the universal Church—was conferred by Christ solely upon Peter and his successor, not upon the Church of Rome understood as the community of laity or presbyters gathered around its Bishop.
Whenever one speaks of the Roman Church or of the Holy See, reference is always made either to the Bishop of Rome alone, successor of Saint Peter and Vicar of Christ, or to his Curia insofar as it acts (or ought to act) with vicarious authority, in persona papae. This does not mean that the Pope is an absolute monarch unconstrained by divine law, but rather its first minister and guardian.
The fact that Müller traces this interpretation of Petrine primacy “up to the First Vatican Council” is significant: at least implicitly, he admits that he believes something “changed” in the conception of the Papacy from that point onward. In reality, this is not the case. Vatican I defined dogmatically and clarified what the Church had always taught concerning the Primacy from the earliest centuries. This is not the place for an apology of the Papacy, but it is evident that today, within the Vatican palaces, very few truly believe it—perhaps no one.
The Society remains troublesome because history has steadily confirmed Archbishop Lefebvre’s diagnosis.
That being said, Müller’s entire speech was an indignant indictment of the Society of Saint Pius X. “The Priestly Society of Saint Pius X has sent an open letter to all the cardinals,” the German cardinal said. “It is our duty, by virtue of our office, both individually and as a College, to reject the scandalous accusation that the Roman Church has departed from the Catholic faith.”
We all agree that the accusation made by the SSPX is in itself scandalous. Can we nevertheless affirm that it is also false and unjust? So, according to Müller, are the various Fernández, Tolentino, Grech, Zuppi (the reader will forgive me: I cannot list here 90% of the Sacred College) capable of professing every single dogmatic point and demonstrating in fact that they have not departed from the Catholic faith? “One is not Catholic who disagrees with the Roman Church in the doctrine of the faith,” Müller himself recalled at the conclusion of his intervention.
Also interesting was the Cardinal’s final proposal, aimed not at healing the rupture with the Society—note carefully that nothing to this effect appears in his speech—but rather at resolving the question of the traditional liturgy under the guise of welcome.
The two problems—the rupture with the Society and the traditional liturgy—are two very different problems, as several cardinals have admitted, even though they cannot be separated. We shall shortly return to Müller’s solution.
“I propose the establishment of a commission, along the lines of the former Ecclesia Dei, to allow those who have embraced this schismatic position to return to full communion with the Pope. But the boundary into schism is definitively crossed when the ministry of the Bishop of Rome, as the visible principle and enduring foundation of the unity of the Church in revealed truth, is violated.”
What the SSPX Represents for the Neo-Modernists in Power
Today, in the eyes of the post-conciliar ecclesiastical establishment, the Society represents a problem that goes far beyond the canonical or liturgical question. Were this not the case, it would be difficult to explain why, nearly forty years after the episcopal consecrations of 1988 and despite numerous attempts at dialogue, it continues to occupy such a prominent place on the Roman agenda. The episcopal consecrations of July 1, 2026 have certainly intensified the tension, but they do not constitute its deeper cause. They are rather its effect.
The fundamental reason is much simpler. By its very existence, the Society continues to bear witness to the fact that a large part of the analyses formulated by Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre during the 1970s and 1980s have progressively come to pass. He had denounced a crisis of faith destined to manifest itself through the collapse of vocations, the dissolution of ecclesiastical discipline, the loss of the sense of the sacred, doctrinal relativism, the primacy of pastoral practice over doctrine, and the transformation of the liturgy into a privileged place of theological experimentation. Decades later, it is difficult to deny that these phenomena now constitute the ordinary landscape of ecclesial life.
The statistics speak for themselves. While a substantial portion of European and North American dioceses continues to experience a steady decline in religious practice, the closure of parishes, the collapse of priestly and religious ordinations, and the aging of the clergy, the Traditional institutes generally continue to experience growth, albeit numerically limited in comparison with the universal Church.
Rome can debate canon law indefinitely. It has never adequately answered the doctrinal challenge.
The Society of Saint Pius X, together with the other institutes attached to the Traditional liturgy, continues to open priories, schools, seminaries, apostolates, and missions. It would be naïve to attribute this phenomenon exclusively to an aesthetic preference for the ancient Roman Rite.
It is precisely here that the issue emerges. The divergence is not primarily liturgical. It is doctrinal. In Rome they know this well, but they do not wish to address the issue directly, perhaps because they are aware that they are in a disadvantaged position. The liturgy is not an isolated element of ecclesial life, as though it were a matter of personal taste or a particular spiritual sensitivity. According to the famous formula of Tradition, lex orandi, lex credendi: the law of prayer expresses the law of faith. The manner in which the Church prays inevitably manifests what she believes.
For this reason, it makes little sense to reduce the entire contemporary debate to the Traditional Mass alone, which is far more than a rite celebrated in the Latin language.
It would even be contradictory to celebrate or habitually attend the ancient Roman Rite while continuing interiorly to adhere to doctrinal principles incompatible with Catholic Tradition, or while attributing binding authority to theological opinions that are not binding and which, in several cases, are difficult to reconcile with the Church’s constant Magisterium. This phenomenon, it must honestly be acknowledged, is by no means absent from the so-called Traditional world. There are, in fact, numerous circles in which Tradition is reduced almost exclusively to an aesthetic, cultural, or identity issue, while a substantial adherence to the philosophical and theological presuppositions of the Revolution remains.
The issue, therefore, concerns the content of the faith even before its ritual expression. And it is precisely this that makes the Society so troublesome. Rome can debate the canonical status of an institute (using Canon Law as an instrument of personal power), can contest certain disciplinary decisions, and can even denounce its juridical irregularity. What proves far more difficult, however, is to refute the fundamental diagnosis of the post-conciliar crisis
Burke’s Astonishing Statement: “There Is No State of Necessity.”
The recent statement by Cardinal Raymond Leo Burke probably constitutes one of the most surprising moments in the entire affair. Asked about the Society’s episcopal consecrations, Burke categorically denied that it is possible today to speak of a “state of emergency” in the Church.
That statement deserves careful examination, because it concerns not merely the prudential judgment regarding a particular disciplinary act, but the very criterion by which the contemporary ecclesial crisis is to be evaluated.
The question I would like to put to the US Cardinal would probably be the following: what concrete situation would have to occur for a Cardinal of the Catholic Church to consider a state of necessity to exist?
This is an eminently juridical and theological question. Canon law indeed recognizes the principle of a state of necessity as an exceptional circumstance in which safeguarding the supreme good of souls may affect the ordinary application of ecclesiastical discipline that does not pertain to divine law. Naturally, its existence cannot simply be presumed, but neither can it be excluded a priori as though it were a purely theoretical category, destined never to occur in the history of the Church.
Over the past thirteen years, the Church has passed through one of the most dramatic phases of her recent history. This concerns not merely the numerous pastoral ambiguities that characterized the pontificate of Francis, now amply documented. The problem is much more radical. For the first time in modern history, the man who was presented to the world as the Supreme Pontiff repeatedly uttered statements which, considered according to their objective meaning, are irreconcilable with the Church’s constant Magisterium and, in some cases, directly contradicted truths taught infallibly.
One need only think of the statements concerning the plurality of religions “willed by God,” the Masonic idea of “infinite dignity of human beings,”—statements that have required continual attempts at reinterpretation by theologians and cardinals.
This concerns not only the controversies provoked by Amoris Laetitia or Fiducia Supplicans. One need only think of the statements concerning the plurality of religions “willed by God,” the Masonic idea of “infinite dignity of human beings,” the problematic declarations concerning Matrimonial and Eucharistic theology, and much more besides—statements that have required continual attempts at reinterpretation by theologians and cardinals.
Cardinal Burke declared that there exists no state of emergency (sic), that is, no state of necessity. May someone describe for me an ideal scenario in which it would be justifiable to speak of a state of necessity? We have had, at least officially, a Pope—Francis—who did not merely utter ambiguities, but actual heresies, contradicting Catholic dogma on several occasions. What else must happen before the existence of a state of necessity is acknowledged? If this situation does not constitute at least sufficient grounds for seriously discussing the existence of a state of necessity, it becomes difficult to imagine what scenario could ever satisfy such a requirement. What else would still have to happen? That a Pope explicitly denies an article of the Creed during a solemn definition? That he convenes a council to abolish a dogma?
The paradox is obvious. The very cardinals who today urge us not to speak of a state of necessity are often the same ones who, over the past few years, have publicly acknowledged the existence of a profound ecclesial crisis: a crisis of authority, a crisis of faith, a crisis of vocations, a crisis of the liturgy, a crisis of catechesis, a crisis in the transmission of doctrine. If all these crises are admitted individually, it becomes difficult to understand why their convergence could never constitute, at least in principle, that extraordinary situation which Canon law defines precisely as a state of necessity.
A Bold Hypothesis
I venture to formulate a hypothesis concerning the future, one which I hope will be disproved by events. In light of recent developments, it appears at least consistent with the strategy followed by the Holy See over the past few years and months.
In a recent interview, Cardinal François-Xavier Bustillo stated that the Traditional Latin Mass does not in itself constitute a threat to the unity of the Church or to ecclesial communion. Taken in isolation, this statement might even appear reassuring to those attached to the ancient Roman Rite.
The most significant part of the interview, however, is probably another. Asked whether the time had come to revise Traditionis Custodes, Bustillo ruled out any radical modification of the current discipline. Too abrupt a repeal, he explained, would inevitably create the impression that Pope Francis had been mistaken and that Leo XIV had been called to correct his errors. According to the Cardinal, the Pope will instead offer a solution that is “giusta e aggiustata.”
This statement deserves attention. Bustillo is one of the cardinals closest to Pope Leo XIV in style and ecclesial outlook: both are revolutionaries of deceleration and inclusion: not changing direction, but modifying the method; not expelling the potential adversary, but giving him the impression of being welcomed; not imposing changes frontally, but integrating them progressively. The objective is certainly not to reverse the revolutionary process that began in the post-Conciliar period, but rather to make it more stable by reducing conflicts. In the name of the famous “unity.”
From this perspective, the strategy consists in welcoming everything, at least on the formal level, so as to neutralize every opposition in advance. Traditionalists are reassured without being given back what they are asking for; progressives are reassured without appearing ideological; all channels of dialogue remain open while the overall framework remains substantially unchanged.
If this reading is correct, I expect that the liturgical question will be addressed explicitly by Pope Leo XIV in the coming weeks, but only after the conclusion, with excommunication, of the dossier concerning the Society of Saint Pius X.
In the letter addressed to Fr. Pagliarani, by contrast, there is no doctrinal accusation, no list of theological errors to be retracted, and no explanation of the point at which the Society is alleged to profess a faith different from that of the Church. Instead, only a few hours were granted to alter a decision that had already been publicly announced.
It would not be surprising, in fact, if Leo XIV were first to intervene regarding the recently celebrated episcopal consecrations, forcefully reaffirming the principle of obedience to the Roman Pontiff, and only afterward address separately the discipline governing the Traditional liturgy. After all, Bustillo himself insisted on distinguishing between the two issues.
For precisely this reason, a simple abrogation of Traditionis Custodes appears unlikely. Another solution appears far more plausible. The Pope could fully reaffirm the guiding principles of Traditionis Custodes, reiterating that the reformed rite constitutes the sole ordinary expression of the lex orandi of the Latin Church and reaffirming the concerns already expressed by Francis regarding the identity-based use of the ancient liturgy.
At the same time, however, he could acknowledge that there are groups of faithful sincerely attached to the Traditional rite and that such pastoral needs deserve accompaniment. The real novelty, therefore, would not consist in repealing Francis’ motu proprio, but rather in its interpretation and application.
Instead of concentrating decision-making in Rome, Leo XIV could restore broad discretion to individual diocesan bishops, inviting them to discern, on a case-by-case basis, whether it would be appropriate to erect personal rectories, chaplaincies, or other places permanently designated for celebrations according to the 1962 Missal without having to report periodically to the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith.
From a communications standpoint, this would be an almost perfect move: Francis would not be contradicted, Traditionis Custodes would remain formally intact, traditional faithful might obtain some additional space, and conservative commentators would immediately speak of a turning point, openness, and reconciliation.
In reality, however, the problem would simply be transferred. Rome would no longer directly restrict the Traditional liturgy. Individual diocesan ordinaries would decide instead. And since the world’s episcopate—not only in the West—is today composed overwhelmingly of progressive and heterodox bishops, the practical outcome would be easily predictable. Some would grant something; many would grant very little; the majority would grant nothing.
The burden would fall entirely upon the faithful, who would be required to persuade their own bishop to authorize a personal rectory for one Mass per month. A kind of liturgical “Indian reservation,” tolerated but carefully separated from the ordinary life of the dioceses.
Leo XIV could thus simultaneously present himself as the guarantor of unity, the guardian of Francis’ legacy, and the Pope of inclusion. No decision would truly be imposed. No conflict would appear to have been openly provoked. It would be the classic exercise of authority through the devolution of responsibility. Apparent subsidiarity.
Within this framework, the letter sent by Pope Leo XIV to Fr. Davide Pagliarani on June 30, on the eve of the episcopal consecrations, also takes on particular significance. As early as 2025, the Superior General of the Society requested a personal audience with the new Pontiff without receiving any response. A second attempt received only an interlocutory reply from Cardinal Víctor Manuel Fernández. Only when the Society announced that it had nevertheless decided to proceed with the consecrations, the dialogue suddenly reopened (if indeed it may be called dialogue), culminating in the meeting of February 12. Those talks produced no substantial result.
The timing of the papal letter is highly significant. Consider, by way of historical comparison, that nearly six months elapsed between the bull Exsurge Domine of June 15, 1520, by which Leo X condemned forty-one propositions of Martin Luther, and the subsequent bull Decet Romanum Pontificem of January 3, 1521, by which excommunication was pronounced.
Six months were granted for reflection, discussion, retraction, and the healing of the rupture. In the letter addressed to Fr. Pagliarani, by contrast, there is no doctrinal accusation, no list of theological errors to be retracted, and no explanation of the point at which the Society is alleged to profess a faith different from that of the Church. Instead, only a few hours were granted to alter a decision that had already been publicly announced.
If the controversy with the Society concerns not the deposit of faith but exclusively disciplinary and canonical matters, why prevent at all costs episcopal consecrations that the Society considers necessary for its own survival? The impression is that the last-minute appeal was intended more to provoke refusal than to achieve reconciliation.
If that were the case, the entire sequence of events would assume a different logic. The crisis would be used to close the Society dossier once and for all, as already noted, separating it from the future management of the liturgical question.
And here the proposal advanced by Cardinal Müller during the Consistory becomes relevant once again. The idea of a new Ecclesia Dei Afflicta could constitute precisely the desired point of equilibrium. On the one hand, the “historical thesis” of Summorum Pontificum, which liberalized the Traditional liturgy. On the other, the “historical antithesis” of Traditionis Custodes, which drastically restricted it. Finally, the Hegelian “synthesis”: an ecclesial structure dedicated to Traditional faithful, perfectly integrated into the new synodal architecture.
A solution capable of satisfying almost everyone on the media level without genuinely altering the ecclesial balance that has developed over the past several years.
